Never Know
by protejerinnocencia
Summary: A tragedy hits home. But we'll never know why it happened.


Author Note: This story is written in memory of Robert E. Murphy, III (3/9/85-12/5/05)

**Never Know**

No one would ever really know why it happened. But everyone wondered nonetheless. Questions buzzed in the air; why now? Why? That was the big question on everyone's mind. It truly was a tragedy. It came so unexpectedly.

A small crowd stood huddled together against the biting December air. Arms wrapped about one another in an effort to keep warm and to console their companions in grief. Loud sobs broke the silence of the surrounding now and then. Tissue boxes circulated among the group assembled. Presently a redhead clutched a wad of tissues to her chest as she tried to calm herself. A pair of arms encircled her, pulling her close. She leaned her head on the shoulder of her older brother. While they were a year apart in age, they seemed inseparable and closer than ever now.

"I miss her," Ginny sobbed into Ron's shoulder, her hair cascading over her moistened face.

"I know. We all do Gin," Ron whispered, swallowing back a sob.

Silence fell once more as the crowd parted like the Red Sea under Moses' command. Four men dressed all in black walked forward, carrying a dark mahogany casket. They came to stop at a high alter and set the coffin atop it. They departed and the assembled group slowly took their seats. The entire Weasley family took up two rows. Several Hogwarts Professor sat behind them. Many of the people in attendance were friends of the family of the deceased. In a far corner sat a lone figure. The figure's head was bowed and its forehead rested on its hands. From across the room, Ginny made to stand and join him but was stayed by her brother's hand.

"Let him be for right now. He needs his space," the redhead whispered, pulling his sister back down to her seat. Ginny said nothing, but flung herself at her brother, soaking the shoulder of his shirt.

Back across the room, Harry took a shaky breath. His glasses were tucked in his pocket. He'd grown frustrated with them growing foggy from crying. His jade colored eyes were still running like waterfalls. He couldn't watch as her casket was brought in. His mind fled back three days previous.

++

Harry woke up and the room was dark. It was a Sunday morning. Without his glasses he couldn't make out the clock. Finally finding them, he learned it was 7:15. With a soft sigh he pushed himself from bed and wandered towards the Common Room. He rounded the corner and stopped short, his mouth falling agape. Slowly he moved forward, his entire body shaking as came to stand behind her. It was not until then that his eyes traveled upwards, taking in the intricate knots of the scarves. He walked around her and jumped back. Her face pale and her lips blue. Her eyes were glazed over. He noticed that that he was looking up at her. He never looked up at her. A wave of nausea swept through him. He reached up and cupped her cheek in his palm. She was cold to the touch. Tears began to prick the edges of his eyes. He reached around her neck and struggled to undo the scarf. Finally he got it loose and clutched her stiff and unmoving body to him. At that moment, as he fell to the ground in heartache, Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Mr. Potter…what happened?" she gasped as she took in the scene.

"I…I don't know….I came down and she…" he sobbed.

"Was hung…she's dead. Tell me I'm dreaming," he wailed, rocking back and forth, tightening his grip on her.

"I…I'm afraid you aren't dreaming," Minerva whispered, herself close to tears.

The elderly witch bent down next to her pupil and laid a hand on his quivering shoulder. After a long ten minutes she pried him from his fallen classmate and she set about notifying everyone. Madam Pomfrey was called in to tend to the body. The students were all gathered in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall stood before them, a tissue in her hand, dabbing at her eyes.

"May I have your attention please," she called to the mass of confused students.

"This morning, Hogwarts suffered a tremendous loss," she continued.

"A student was found hung in their Common Room," she finished, having to take a moment to re-collect herself.

Students and staff alike erupted in murmurs of of shock and sadness. Finally collecting herself, Minerva finished her address to the school.

"We will be holding a service of her memory on Tuesday morning. You are all invited to come and share in the memories of Miss Granger's life," Minerva finished, growing teary-eyed once more.

++

"Harry. It's time," Minerva whispered in his ear, bringing him back from his memories.

"I don't think I can do this," he answered, wiping his eyes again with the back of his hand.

"Just take it slowly. If you have to stop, everyone will understand," she consoled.

"Alright," he murmured and stood up.

He walked to the microphone and stared out at the bleary eyed assemblage. He cleared his throat before beginning to speak.

"I really don't know what to say. I loved her as much as everyone else here. Her death is a mystery to me. If I could, I'd go back and save her. She was always so happy. I never would have expected this to happen," Harry spoke, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I guess we should try and keep living our lives. I know it's what she would have wanted," he continued, suddenly breaking down in tears.

"I…I'm sorry. I can't do this," he murmured and took his seat.

The rest of service passed in tearful commemoration of Hermione Jane Granger. Once all the rest of the guests had left, Harry made his way over to his best friend and former girlfriend. He pulled them both into a hug. The trio sobbed in unison over their loss.

"I still don't know why this happened," Ron sniffed, his nose running.

"I don't think we'll ever know why," Ginny murmured somberly.

"She should have talked to us. We were there for her," Harry breathed, starting to grow angry.

"Harry...it's not your fault," Ron and Ginny assured him in unison.

"Yes it is. If I hadn't been so obsessed with defeating Voldemort I would have been able to be with her more," he sobbed.

"Harry stop it. You were doing what you had to do. You saved thousands of lives," Ginny reprimanded in a very Molly Weasley tone.

"But I lost one that meant the world to me," he countered, his tear-filled eyes growing angry.

"We know mate. We lost her too. We're going to get through this. For her," Ron said, wrapping an arm around each of his companions as they left the room.

Harry gave the casket one final glance. Rest in peace.


End file.
